to Maximov.
He spoke Russian fairly well, much better, anyway, than he pretended. If he used Russian words, he always distorted them into a Polish form.
“But I was married to a Polish lady myself,” tittered Maximov.
“But did you serve in the cavalry? You were talking about the cavalry. Were you a cavalry officer?” put in Kalganov at once.
“Was he a cavalry officer indeed? Ha ha!” cried Mitya, listening eagerly, and turning his inquiring eyes to each as he spoke, as though there were no knowing what he might hear from each.
“No, you see,” Maximov turned to him. “What I mean is that those pretty Polish ladies … when they danced the mazurka with our Uhlans … when one of them dances a mazurka with a Uhlan she jumps on his knee like a kitten … a little